


All Day Long

by nothingelsematters



Series: Liar [4]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Brian has angsty feelings but Roger's here to make it all better, Houston 1977, I am an author of my word, Liar, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Maylor AND Deacury, Maylor centric, Red Special being a bitch, and the Birch Special not being much better, but Maylor centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-21 04:23:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17036594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothingelsematters/pseuds/nothingelsematters
Summary: Some times your day will get worse before it gets better, as Brian finds out when they play Houston. Fortunately, Roger is very much part of the "getting better".





	All Day Long

**Author's Note:**

> *opens AO3* *sees 5500+ hits for Liar* *chokes on drink and starts splutter-flailing* Oh my god! Thankyou all!
> 
> Here it is! The Maylor-centric installment of Liar! Apologies to the Deacury fans as they take a very back seat here.
> 
> This is the fic for the Houston 1977 performance of Liar: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7YaNnuM7GEU (put on your headphones and you can hear the string break at 1:23 and at 2:09 you can hear the sound of the guitars being switched. I think he played great from here, but Brian is emo about it, of course.)

Brian knew it was going to be a shit day before he even opened his eyes.

The reason was simple: he was cold. Not just because the quilt had slipped off him, leaving his upper body exposed, but because there was no warm, snuggly, sleepy Roger cuddled up to him. And when Brian slid his hand out, looking for his lover, he found only cold sheets.

That the sheets weren’t even warm suggested Roger had been up for a while, and that was not right. Brian was usually the first one up, leaving his beauty to sleep a little longer. If Roger had woken first, and was short on sleep, he’d be unhappy, and Roger being unhappy was like a physical pain in Brian’s heart.

Brian needed their morning cuddles to reassure himself that yes, Roger was content and happy and looked after, and knew he was loved. If he couldn’t reassure Roger on that point, then it made for a bad day.

Quickly, he rolled out of bed, padding to the bathroom. Once that was taken care of, he went looking for Roger.

They were staying in a two-bedroom apartment this time in Houston, and it was nice; John and Freddie in one room, Brian and Roger in the other. To the public, they were just roommates, being practical and economical while on an expensive tour, but only in their little quartet did they know the truth – that they were two couples. Having a two-bedroom apartment gave them privacy; it also gave them the opportunity for fun, if they wanted to spend time as a four. Not that there’d been much of that this trip; John and Freddie were in a phase of preferring to keep to themselves. Brian understood; he and Roger had those phases often enough themselves.

Making his way into the living room, he smiled involuntarily at the sight that greeted him.

John and Roger were snuggled up together on the couch, both wrapped up in their dressing gowns, talking quietly. They looked so sweet and comfortable that Brian began backing out as quietly as he could, not wanting to disturb that pretty picture; but John had sharp ears, and his head lifted and he gave Brian one of his lovely, slow smiles that still managed to catch him by surprise.

“Good morning, Bri,” he said. “Now that you’re up, I’ll start breakfast, shall I?”

John gave Brian a very long, meaningful look as he went through to the kitchenette, and Brian caught its hint quite quickly.

 _He needs you right now_.

“Hey, Rog,” Brian took John’s vacated spot, and smiled as Roger burrowed into his side. “I missed you this morning.”

“Woke up, couldn’t sleep again.”

Yes, there was something about the way his eyes darted, the downturn at the corners of his mouth…

“What’s wrong, Rog?”

Roger sighed shakily. “Had a nightmare. Don’t want to talk about it.”

“You should, love,” Brian said gently. “Talking about things helps, you shouldn’t bottle it up…”

“I said I’m fine!” Roger snapped, and Brian flinched back, hurt. “God! If I don’t wanna talk about it I’m not gonna, so stop pushing!”

And Roger got up and stormed into their bedroom, slamming the door shut.

John was blinking in surprise in the kitchenette; Freddie came to the door of the other bedroom, yawning sleepily. “What’s wrong, my darlings?”

Yes, it was going to be a shit day.

*

The soft tap on his dressing room door came just as Brian had finished buttoning up his white coat. The pointy shoulders made him look taller than he already was and he wondered why he’d agreed to it.

“Come in.”

“Bri?”

Brian turned, and saw Roger standing there, knocking the breath out of him. Roger was wearing a plain white shirt, oversized and unbuttoned down to his waist, and black pants; his hair was tousled and his blue eyes wide and god, these were the moments Brian couldn’t believe that he actually had the right to touch and hold and keep this angel, that this angel belonged to _him_ , loved _him_ , had chosen _him_.

“You look wonderful, Rog.”

“So do you.” Roger sucked in a deep breath; he was tapping his drumsticks against his thigh nervously. “I’m sorry about this morning.”

Brian shook his head. “Don’t be, Rog. You were right, I shouldn’t have pushed you.”

“But you’re right. I should talk about these things. We promised never to keep things from each other. We can talk about it later, if you like?” Roger’s smile was a little fragile, like he wasn’t sure if Brian would want to.

“Of course,” Brian reassured him, leaning in to kiss him on the corner of his mouth in a way that made Roger laugh. “After the show, hmm?”

“Of course,” Roger was smiling, now, and his face had lit up, and Brian was struck by how beautiful he was again. “Come on, let’s go.”

Maybe this day was going to get better. Brian scooped up the Red Special and followed his lover out towards the stage.

*

No, the day was going to get worse, as it turned out.

Just as they got into position for _Liar_ , Brian ran his hands over the strings of his Old Lady and felt it. Felt the unmistakable feeling of a guitar string close to the end of its life. Annoyance bubbled up in him. He’d just given her new strings a week ago! How could one be on its way out already?

_Nevermind, just please, hang on til the end of the concert._

Yeah, not with his luck.

The string let go just over a minute into the song, even as Brian was in the middle of the intro. He winced as he heard the tell-tale “plink”; hastily his fingers flew to the controls, rapidly trying to retune his guitar to make up for the missing string, but nothing really could; he knew he was out of tune.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Freddie giving him a strange look – he knew it was out of character for Brian to be so out of tune. John, bless him, was signaling to the techs backstage between bass riffs, trying to get them to understand.

And then, thank _god_ , the lights went down for the lyric intro. He gave one last strum, flinched at its sound, and raced to the side of the stage, where the techs had finally realised what had happened and were waiting with the backup guitar. Hastily, as the last note faded – and he heard John strum one where normally he wouldn’t, to fill the gap – Brian yanked the plug out of the Special and into the backup.

There was no time to check. He raced back to the stage as quickly as he could without tripping over the cords.

Roger was playing a soft cymbal beat to fill time and cover for the fact that they normally would have started by now. Brian could see him watching, waiting for the moment that he was ready to go again.

Brian took a deep breath, and began playing the guitar intro. Horror crashed through him as he realised the backup guitar was out of tune. Freddie gave him another look but continued to move, obviously realising there was little Brian could do.

 _No, this can’t be happening_.

“I have sinned dear father, father I have sinned…”

Brian’s hands flew to the controls between strums, desperately trying to make adjustments on the fly, anything to stop him sounding as horribly bad as he knew he did. He was so engrossed in this that he almost missed the first _Liar!_ ; he had to race forward and only just made the microphone in time.

He wanted to run and hide, he knew he was playing poorly, and he hated playing poorly, he hated reflecting badly on the others…

His first solo was a flurry of adjustments and noise, and to Brian’s ear it didn’t sound anything like it should. He could feel misery cramping up in his limbs, wanting to take him over; it took everything he had to force himself to continue.

The second solo was worse. Brian was absolutely certain that everyone in the building now thought he was playing extremely badly. Freddie came prancing towards him with his tambourine, trying to engage in their usual flirting, but Brian just couldn’t respond. His whole concentration was caught up in trying to sound like something passable.

Then Freddie was right up against his shoulder, mic stand slung across his shoulders and tambourine banging against his hip, and Brian could almost feel his warm breath. Freddie’s lips didn’t move, but Brian almost heard the “you’re okay, darling” as though it had been spoken in his ear.

Which was a ridiculous thought considering how _loud_ the racket was that his backup was making, but it still made him feel warm inside and gave him the confidence to start moving like nothing was wrong. He moved back towards Freddie, giving him a look, and Freddie gave him the faintest smile back as he tilted his body forwards, abandoning its movement to Roger’s and John’s beat and giving it over to Brian instead.

And then finally, _finally_ , they were in the second bridge, and Brian wasn’t in the spotlight, and he could take a moment to breathe and quickly try a few more tuning tricks.

Preoccupied again, he missed his first _all day long_ ; thank goodness this was one of the few times John’s singing was audible, as it meant the audience didn’t realise they were missing a voice.

(At least his playing in this bridge was supposed to be scratchy and plucky.)

Then they were back into the section where Brian was supposed to be at full volume, and he launched it, grimacing at the sound. Freddie came up to him again, making sure his back was to the crowd, and this time Brian was treated to a full, reassuring Freddie smile.

He could get through this. John was nodding at him, and he could practically _feel_ Roger’s eyes on his back, and Freddie was smiling. His bandmates weren’t upset about his sound. They were proud of him for carrying on.

Brian felt more relaxed as the spotlight shifted to John for the bass solo, and then once it was done, he threw himself into the last section, trying not to let the sound bother him; vaguely, he was aware that Freddie, Roger and John were _matching_ him, covering for his problems with their skill, and never in his life had he felt gratitude more strongly in that moment.

They were Queen. They were lovers, brothers, friends. They had each other’s backs, through thick and thin.

*

It was only with very great restraint that Brian didn’t throw the stupid birch guitar as he returned to his dressing room. The tuning had got no better, and Brian’s nerves were more frayed than the Old Lady’s string had been before it broke.

Still, he dumped it into the hands of the techs with more force than was strictly necessary and snatched the Old Lady up. He closed his dressing room door with force, laid her gently in her case, and then slumped in his chair.

Sometimes Brian cursed his brain, the way it would play back his every mistake. It amplified to him just how terrible he had sounded. God, and Liar was supposed to be one of their great moments in the show, too.

He was so deep in his misery that he didn’t hear the tap on the door; he didn’t even notice it open, until he suddenly had his head forcibly lifted and a lapful of beautiful blond angel.

“Hi, Bri,” Roger whispered, and then he kissed him, slow and sweet and loving, and Brian felt all of his anguish melt away.

“Rog,” he sighed, “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Roger said firmly, tapping Brian on the nose. “None of us are mad at you. You were doing your best and you still sounded pretty good. I bet the audience didn’t even realise anything was wrong.”

Brian wrinkled his nose. “You can be honest, Rog. I sounded _awful_.”

“No, you didn’t,” Roger replied insistently, a frown crinkling his brows. “You were amazing tonight, Bri.”

Brian’s eyes were caught by that little furrow between his brows, and before he could think, he leaned up and kissed it, feeling it smooth away under his lips.

“You don’t like it when I’m unhappy,” Roger murmured, his fingers looping gently through Brian’s curls. “Don’t you think I feel the same? Seeing you look so miserable tonight hurt, Bri. I just wanted to make it better.”

Brian leaned up into Roger’s touch, and closed his eyes as he felt Roger’s lips move across his, down his jaw, the kisses soothing rather than inflaming.

“Rog? Let’s go back to the room. I want to cuddle with you.”

Roger grinned and jumped up off Brian’s lap.

“Oh, I am absolutely ready for a _cuddle_.”

Brian had a vague feeling that they were going to be doing more than that.

*

The ride back to their hotel was short and silent, Roger seemingly content to just smile fondly at him rather than getting handsy. When they arrived back at the apartment, the second bedroom door was closed firmly, one of Freddie’s scarves tied to the handle, the universal signal that _we’re fucking in here please don’t interrupt_. Brian could hear the soft noises coming from behind the door and smiled to himself. They were too cute.

“Bri?” Roger’s voice had come from inside their bedroom, and Brian realised he’d been drifting. He moved forward quickly, noticing that Roger had already looped one of Brian’s ties around the door handle, and was greeted by a breathtaking sight.

Roger was kneeling in the middle of the bed, already completely naked, his golden hair hanging down around his face; his hands were clasped behind his back, and he looked completely delectable.

It was also their unspoken signal that Roger wanted the dynamic to come into play tonight. They didn’t always, but some nights one or both of them needed it, and they had ways of communicating that.

Still, Brian liked to make sure.

“Rog?” he queried softly as he closed the door, starting to unbutton his shirt. “Use your words, angel.”

“Please, Bri,” Roger’s voice was raspy already, and it sent shivers down Brian’s spine. “I want you to take control. To do whatever you want to me.”

Brian swallowed. Even now, some years into their relationship, he could scarcely believe the amount of trust Roger placed in him.

“Our safeword?”

“Galileo.”

Satisfied, Brian paused a moment to close his eyes and gather his thoughts. When they had first started exploring the dynamic, the limited – and wildly inaccurate – literature Brian had got his hands on had said the safeword was for the submissive only, to use if he felt the dominant was being too rough. But Freddie had set him straight – _not literally_ – and reminded Brian that it was also there for the dominant, if they were uncomfortable or not in the right headspace.

Some nights Brian struggled to get there, but tonight, with his adrenaline still bubbling under his skin from everything that had gone wrong, was definitely not one of those nights. If anything, he thought dimly, he might be _too_ worked up for it.

Still, for now he was in control, and Roger was kneeling there so beautifully. Brian felt a smile creep over his lips as he saw that Roger had left the drawer with Brian’s ties open, one or two of them hanging out in a not-very-subtle hint.

Brian sauntered over deliberately slowly, making sure Roger was watching him from under his eyelashes; he picked out a tie in a blue the same shade as his pretty eyes, then paused to remove his own pants and underwear, kicking them to the floor.

Roger made a soft whining sound, and Brian hopped up onto the bed, sliding around to kiss Roger firmly. Roger’s mouth opened obediently under his, and Brian lost his head for a moment, kissing him rough and strong, taking everything he wanted from Roger’s mouth, bruising those soft lips, tasting his warmth.

“So beautiful,” Brian whispered as they broke the kiss; Roger was panting, his eyes glazed, his skin flushed. “So good for me. Will you let me have this, tonight?”

“Yes,” Roger’s voice had sunk to a low purr. “Anything you want.”

“On your knees, by the headboard, then.”

Roger quickly scuttled into position, reaching out to rest his hands on the headboard, and Brian moved forward, looping the tie around Roger’s wrists gently and knotting it to the ornate decoration. He tested it briefly, tugging at the knot to make sure it would hold, sliding a finger into each loop against Roger’s skin to make sure it wasn’t tight or chafing, and making sure that there was enough length to allow Roger to turn over later.

(He remembered their early experiments where Roger had whined about Brian being too slow and to tie him up more roughly, but after one night where that had gone terribly wrong, leaving Roger’s wrist bleeding and Brian safewording out in panic, Roger was well content to let Brian take his time.)

When he was done, Brian took a moment to rock back on his heels, drinking in the sight of Roger, his pale skin, the curve of his back in this position, the slight strain through his shoulders, his cock already hard and weeping from anticipation.

Any tension that was left in his body drained out of him just looking, and a smile came over his face as he thought about what he wanted to do. Carefully, he positioned himself behind Roger, spreading his fingers over the pale skin at his hips and pressing kisses down his spine.

Roger shivered. “Bri…”

“Yes, Rog?”

Roger shook his head. “Nothing. I just want you to feel good.” He flashed a look at Brian from under his eyelashes, sending a bolt of heat straight down into his groin.

“You’re so sweet,” Brian smiled against Roger’s skin, kissing lower. “You taste so nice.”

And then he swept his tongue downwards until it was tracing Roger’s hole, and the younger man managed a shuddering moan, which he bit off by biting his lip.

“Oh no, sweet one,” Brian lifted his head for a moment. “I want to hear you. I want to hear everything, every thought running through that pretty head of yours.”

“ _Bri_ ,” Roger sighed obediently, and Brian felt his cock twitch in excitement.

“Good boy,” he murmured, and leaned in, chasing a sweat droplet that was running down Roger’s back; it was a delightful mix of salt and the taste was _Roger_ , and Brian licked his lips before letting his tongue trail lower again.

Roger’s moan was higher this time. Brian worked his tongue in a lazy circle, teasing, teasing, but not dipping in. He could feel the muscles in Roger’s thighs twitching as he fought the urge to push his ass back into Brian’s face.

Tightening his grip on Roger’s hips, Brian let his tongue push inside, relishing in the loud cry of his name that reverberated off the walls.

He let his eyes fall closed, losing himself in the taste of Roger, his smell, the way his voice sounded in his ears, the way he moved just slightly whenever Brian changed his angle. He pulled back slightly to scrape his teeth over the sensitive flesh, moving down to kiss the skin behind Roger’s balls, and felt them tighten; he reached up and gave them a squeeze, moving his mouth back up to slide his tongue inside, and Roger was almost sobbing.

“Please – please Bri,” he managed to pant out, “Please – want to come on your cock…”

Brian contemplated teasing him a little longer, but a tweak in his back as he moved reminded him that they really weren’t in the shape to drag this out for too long. Reluctantly, he pulled his mouth away, earning a whine of protest from Roger; fortunately, the drummer had thought to put the lube bottle on the end of the bed where Brian could grab it easily.

Pouring some into his hand, Brian leaned up to kiss between Roger’s shoulderblades; he could feel the muscles there trembling.

“You okay, Rog?”

“Y-yes,” Roger gasped as he felt those long fingers circling. “D-don’t need prep. Just want you.”

Brian frowned.

“I’ll hurt you.”

“N-no. You could never. Please, Bri, please…”

Brian’s frown deepened, and he bit down sharply on Roger’s hip as he slid a finger inside, earning a howl.

“You’re misbehaving,” he said sternly. “I will fuck you when _I_ believe you’re good and ready.”

Roger moaned again and pushed back on Brian’s fingers, but he was having none of it. He was in charge, and the best way to make sure Roger knew it was to take his time. Still, the trembling was starting to spread from his shoulders down his back; the position was clearly a strain.

Brian curled his fingers inside Roger and then pulled them out sharply, making sure to catch his nails on the rim (but not too hard); Roger’s back flexed in a curve and he _screamed_.

“Turn over,” Brian ordered, letting the sensation at the sight of Roger’s hasty obedience go straight to his cock. He grabbed a pillow, and when Roger had managed to wriggle himself in position, he shoved it under Roger’s hips. He made a quick detour up the bed to check that the tie hadn’t been tightened by all the movement; satisfied, he slid three fingers back inside Roger, moving them slowly, casually.

If Brian wanted, he could easily make Roger come like this, on just his fingers; they’d done it before, many times, and it always overwhelmed him to watch Roger come apart that way; but tonight he needed something more raw, something more animalistic.

Quickly, Brian slid his fingers out, moving his hands to guide Roger’s legs to wrap around his waist. He knew when Roger’s ankles were hooked because the younger man immediately pulled, hard, dragging Brian closer.

“You’re lucky I’m feeling generous tonight, because that was very naughty,” Brian scolded half-heartedly; it was hard to be any kind of mad at Roger anyway, let alone when his cock was nudging up against his hole.

“Bri _iiiiiiiiiii_ …”

The impatient moan turned into another high-pitched wail as Brian pushed forward, almost coming at once at the feeling of the hot, tight heat that enveloped him. Roger’s head was thrown back, his eyes unseeing, and Brian couldn’t resist leaning down to nip at the hollow of his throat.

Brian began to move, then, short sharp thrusts that drove Roger’s breath from him in shallow gasps, gripping onto his hips to stop him moving.

“Please, Bri, please…”

“Use your words, Rog,” Brian managed to grit out.

“Please, fuck me harder, make me come without touching me,” and Roger’s raspy voice lit a fire up Brian’s spine. “Love feeling you in me, you fill me up, hold me down…please Bri, please…you make me feel good…wanna make you feel good…”

And then Brian found the angle he was looking for, and Roger’s words were cut off with a choked sound. His walls clenched tight, and against his will, Brian felt his orgasm wrung from his body, Roger’s name on his lips like a chant, whiteness filling his vision.

A long string of expletives burst through the air, and Brian managed to blink away the whiteness just in time to see Roger come completely untouched, forcing several aftershocks from Brian.

After a long moment where he was unable to do anything but breathe, Brian pulled out carefully, unhooking Roger’s legs and laying him out gently; he reached up and pulled loose the knot on the tie, catching Roger’s hands before they could knock against the board and kissing them softly.

“Bri?”

Those big blue eyes fluttered open, and Brian felt himself fall helplessly in love all over again, the way he always did whenever Roger looked at him this way, sleepy and loving and trusting.

“Are you all right, Rog?”

“Yes, love. I’m fine.”

They lay there for a brief moment, and then Roger wriggled off the pillow and rolled out of the bed so quickly Brian didn’t even have time to reach out and stop him. To his credit, after one stumble, the drummer was able to stay upright, though his legs were shaking.

“Rog, come back to bed.”

“Not yet,” came the reply, and Roger disappeared into the bathroom. Sighing and knowing there was no point arguing, Brian took to rearranging the bedclothes, so that they could slide under the sheets and sleep. He tossed the sex pillow to the floor.

Roger returned soon after, having obviously wiped himself down, and carrying warm wet cloths, with which he meticulously wiped Brian down. Brian knew better than to argue; from the earliest days of their relationship it had been so, that Roger wanted to take care of him after sex, and Brian didn’t have the heart to refuse him. He knew that others saw only the drummer, the fierce, sexy wildcat on the stage; but once the wildcat was satisfied the kitten came out, and Roger became sweet and soft and gentle in a way only Brian, John and Freddie got to see.

“You’re thinking again,” Roger smiled, ghosting his lips over Brian’s face as he snuggled in, pulling the sheets up.

“Just wondering how a klutz like me landed someone as perfect as you,” Brian replied smoothly, and Roger giggled shyly.

“I ask myself what I did to deserve you every day.”

Roger pushed his face up into Brian’s neck, sighing, and Brian pulled him closer.

“I love you,” he said quietly, leaning slightly to say it into Roger’s ear. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Roger smiled back, pulling away from his neck to kiss him; it was warm and loving and Brian melted into the mattress. “Dream of the stars for me?”

Brian closed his eyes, but pulled Roger back close to him. “I’ll dream of the star right beside me,” he mumbled, and Roger curled into him, unable to stop his smile widening even as he closed his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope the wait didn't disappoint (I'm not a giant fan of how this turned out). Maylor proved surprisingly difficult to write smut about given how bloody hot the two of them are together.
> 
> Good news! There is now going to be a fifth performance-based installment (Earl's Court) AND as an extra Christmas bonus I will start adding outtakes and side-scenes to the series including fluff and smut. (and fluffy smut.) I've just fallen so deeply into this little universe and I'm not ready to let it go yet!


End file.
